


But I Can Growl Like One

by Babblefishgirl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Eskel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega/Omega/Omega, Lambert-centric, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Omega!Aiden, Omega!Geralt, Omega!Lambert, Omega!Vesemir, Omega/Omega, Orgy, Pining, Sex toy mention, Vesemir hate, Vesemir is a child serial killer if you think about it, mention of child death, synched cycles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babblefishgirl/pseuds/Babblefishgirl
Summary: For Lambert, being a witcher sucks, but spending his heats alone as a barren omega sucks worse. Until his boyfriend Aiden comes to Kaer Morhen and helps him through it (with the help of Eskel and Geralt too). This is self-indulgent smut y’all.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt/Aiden/Lambert/Eskel, Geralt/Jaskier mention, Geralt/Yennefer mention, Vesmir/Countess mention
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Standbacklucy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Standbacklucy).



> Witcher mutations usually are easier to handle when one is an omega- but the occasional alpha or beta makes it through. This is my second-ever fanfiction, and the first barely counts, so plz be nice. Lambert pov, mostly based on the game bc the other witchers weren’t in the show- but Geralt is a weird mix of his show and game parts.

Lambert hates being an omega almost as much as he hates being a witcher, so, for him, being a witcher omega is the worst. Sadly for him, and for the other witchers come to think of it, the omega types are the most likely to make it though the trails and mutations, probably due to the in-built resiliency that their bodies need to carry young. Not many alphas or betas make it at all, in fact. Lambert only knows of two, one of which is his brother, Eskel, the other is a school of the viper witcher called Letho. But by and large, witchers are barren (and thus mateless) omegas, doomed to spend their abnormally long lives having useless heats alone. It was a miserable existence- to have to hunt monsters for a pittance of a living as witchers, then be unbearably horny and lonely as omegas during their heats.

All this has given Lambert ample reason (in his mind anyway) to hate Vesemir with a burning passion. Sure the man had raised him, was his father- figure. But that meant very little to Lambert, as his original father, which Vesemir had replaced, used to beat him and his mother up frequently, then finished off his short fatherhood career by giving Lambert to a child-killer. 

No really, he had crunched the numbers; if Vesemir had gotten thirty two child surprises, but he only had three brothers (though Berengar had died) that meant that he had a thirty percent success rate in making witchers, and had watched twenty eight children die in twisted agony upon his operating table. It is a terrible and ruthless man who could continue to do that to defenseless children in the hopes of getting more witchers; Lambert himself would never invoke the law of surprise on anyone who might possibly give him their child. Of those four ‘lucky ones’ that had lived through Vesemir’s dark experimentation, only Eskel (the bulkiest and the most good-natured of them) was an alpha. Letho, too was far bulkier than witchers usually got- but Lambert had never met him and was unsure as to his actual gender, or nature.

Lambert was intensely jealous of Eskel’s alpha nature, which brings him to another reason that Lambert hates being an omega witcher. This thrice-damned heat-cycle syncing. They all only have one heat a year, but they all have it at the same time because of their internal clocks tending to sync up. It usually happens to them in mid-January; alone in their respective rooms they ride out their cycles; alone but able to hear each others every whine, every moan, every desperate sigh. It is a genuine form of torture, Lambert believes. To be able to hear the other mens unsatisfied sounds, as you yourself are racked with extreme horniness without reprieve. Luckily, though, for their brother Eskel- his body goes into rut during the spring, and not while he is in Kaer Morhen- the lucky bastard probably spends it with four or five whores instead. But his alpha nature did mean that he had to hide during the heat cycle of the other witchers while staying in Kaer Morhen, else the scent of them drive him to madness. He hunted around the school for food, pelts, and firewood and spent his time in the keep cooking and visiting the goats and horses in the stables. He even preferred to sleep in the stables with lil’ Bleater and Scorpion over listening to his brothers and father have their heats in the keep.

Eskel could help them, Lambert believed, but there is a strange unspoken politeness boundary that means that no one asks him to, and he doesn’t offer to. Once, Lambert brought it up when they were all deep in their cups of homemade vodka after a particularly rough winters’ heat, and Eskel had given Geralt a look that was part panic, part guilt then said- “And what do you suppose Vesemir would do? Listen to you two fuck your brains out on my dick while he is in heat, and try to not to let his body get turned on by noises that the boys he raised are making?” Lambert recoiled- the thought was revolting, Vesemir is a sensitive enough topic without sexual shit being drug into it. He had totally overlooked the thought that Vesemir wouldn’t be able to shut out their sounds, and would be an unconsenting witness to their orgy. Ugh, time to think on the other interesting thing that Eskel just said.

Well, less said, more did. That look that Geralt and Eskel had shared, what could that have been about? Perhaps when those two were younger, before Lambert had been brought to Kaer Morhen- they had done some experimenting together? Maybe they had first-hand knowledge about why Eskel couldn’t help out during heats? That was a nice thought to tuck away into the fantasy generator for later.

Eskel was a real looker- had an hourglass figure even- but Geralt was special to him. He was the one Lambert has had a crush on since he was around 15 years old. Lambert did everything he could think of to catch the White Wolf’s attention throughout the years. Called him pretty boy, teased him relentlessly, stuck close by him, even emulated Yennefer’s smugly dismissive style once Geralt had started showing interest in that sorceress alpha, but Geralt is either oblivious to it, or is ignoring it. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He is grown now, and can deal with his little childhood crush better ever since he has got his boyfriend.

Aiden is a school of the Cat witcher. He is light on his feet, sharp- tongued, and highly intelligent. With all the phrases he pulls out from other languages, Lambert suspects that he might be a bit of a polyglot as well. Aiden loves Lambert’s prickly personality, his muscular physique, and even his omega nature. They commiserate, laugh together, split contracts, share food, and the sex is a revelation. The most satisfying experiences in his life have been the feeling he had after fucking Aiden, and the look on Vesemir’s face when he had heard that Lambert was fucking Aiden (in that order, and the first is by a long shot). In short, its a perfect relationship, so fuck Geralt. Er- rather forget him. The fucking him had never really worked out too well.

It has been since spring that they had been on this one date. It consisted of traipsing across the beautiful sections of the continent- hunting together, sleeping under the stars, and taking on the contracts that they could find. It’s slowly changed to being fall now, the trees are starting to turn and on the continent the air is becoming chill during the darker nights and mornings. Lambert and Aiden would need to part soon to wait out their winters (and heats) in their respective school’s strongholds. Lambert was ignoring the changes, ignoring the idea that it would need to someday end.

“Laaammbert...” Aiden said too casually and a little drawn out while they sat down to a rare indoors meal. This bar had low lighting, and good ale- just how the two liked it for the occasional romantic evening.

Instantly wary, Lambert said “Yeees?” while turning to study Aiden’s face for clues to his potential hidden meanings. 

“You know how wolves and cats famously don’t get along…?”

“Yeees...”

“Well- I was wondering what Vesemir’s face would be like if I showed up at Kaer Morhen.”

“What?! Why? I mean- I would love to see the old man contend with that- but you couldn’t do it now.” Lambert reeled, splutting slightly at the idea. It was appalling and appealing at once.

“Why not?”

“Its almost winter! You couldn’t go to Kaer Morhen and make it back to the Dyn Marv Caravan by the time the cold set in!”

“Who said I would actually need to go back to the Dyn Marv Caravan? Besides, it’s only hypothetical.” Aiden said in a reasoning tone, “witchers have been known to help another witcher in need.”

“I don’t know if this is a hypothetical- you are pulling some kind of maneuver here! Fishing for an invitation!”

“I’m shocked at you,” Aiden put a mock offended hand over his chest “like I would be so sneaky! If I had wanted an invitation, I would have simply mentioned all the ways we could help each other through heat and how jealous your brother, Geralt, would be of you!”

“Hmm,” Lambert’s mind quickly went from how they certainly would house Aiden all winter to save him from certain death to turning over how envied and reviled he would be for having his own cat mate in Kaer Morhen “… it’s a deal.” 

“What’s a deal? Aiden asked innocently, pulling his eyebrows together a bit, “I have things to do at the Dyn Marv Caravan this winter! I refuse to actually go through with going to Kaer Morhen.” Aiden sipped his ale as punctuation, accentuating his unwillingness.

“C’mon you bastard, you can’t fool me! You want to and will come back to Kaer Morhen with me?” The words were confident, but the tone was not, and he had gotten as close to begging as Aiden had ever seen, even using those soft wolf-pup eyes that show the vulnerability deep inside that he does so much to cover. It’s Aiden’s favorite look on him.

“Alright- you've convinced me. But only because I dearly love you.”

Lambert can hardly help his shit-eating grin.

\---

Nearly two weeks later, as they are walking up to the keep they hear a commotion. The occasional slam or breaking glass, the sure signs of Aard being misused. Vesemir must be angrier than they had predicted he would be. Still, it’s a long, cold trek, and Vesemir has a few days to settle down. In the two days that it takes for them to get there they share their body heat, rations, and stories. 

Lambert tells Aiden all about his crush on Geralt, and Aiden thinks that it is one of the cutest things that Lambert has disclosed about himself. Second only to how sweet and soft he actually is inside. Aiden’s own prickly teddy bear- someone who is always ready to fight, but only ever wants to cuddle. Aiden finds that he isn’t at all intimidated by this crush, in part because he isn’t a possessive or jealous person. In part as well, though, because Aiden understands that Lambert’s heart is his and that Geralt’s piece of that heart cannot and will not kick him out. The relationship that they have built is strong, beautiful, and lasting. Even if the White Wolf were to stake a claim on his part of Lambert’s affections it could not make Lambert want for him less- any more than breathing deeply makes one wish to give up eating. Aiden also finds that this crush makes for a sensitive and delicate place in Lambert’s fragile ego and psyche. This makes it a very fun thing to tease him lightly about and use as a tool to rile him into a horny and slightly pissed off state. This was going to be a fun winter for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon arriving at Kaer Morhen, Lambert and Aiden see that they were right about having underestimated how angry Vesemir was going to be. He had seen them coming up the path, and had been harrowingly loud about it to Eskel and Geralt. Lucky for them though, a lot of his steam had blown over by the time they had made it to the doors of the old keep, but he was still obviously displeased. He greeted them at the door with a slow sizing up of Aiden, followed by a withering look at Lambert accompanied by a disapproving guttural sound. He then opened the door just wide enough for them to come in, glaring as they did so, then slamming the door shut behind them. 

Instead of Vesemir’s usual asking after his path’s journey, and offering him hot stew from the animals and herbs he had hunted for in preparation for his boys’ return he simply said, “The other boys are playing gwent in the supping-hall.” Vesemir addressed only Lambert with this terse sentence, then stalked stiffly off in the direction of his room. Lambert was unsure what he thought about this- he really loved pissing Vesemir off, but this was a little farther than he had gone before.

Lambert could sense that Aiden was feeling a little awkward after that first meeting with Vesemir, so Lambert started showing him to the central eating area and said, “Of course they are playing Gwent, Geralt is obsessed with that game- and he’s good too. You play Eskel- I’ll take Geralt and his big deck on.” 

Eskel stood up when they came in and Geralt looked over his shoulder at them, “Hey! Good to see you made it, Lambert! And a cat too! Welcome to Kaer Morhen, Aiden- we have heard a lot about you from Lambert here!” Eskel called with a grin as he walked over to crush Lambert in a hug and shake Aiden's hand heartily. “Vesemir was enraged when he saw that he was going to need to house a cat witcher for the winter, really took it out on the practice dummies, and on us too! But he will be down here making peace before too long, I guarantee.” He said in a more hushed voice. “Come, play some Gwent with us!”He said in his louder voice again, and Aiden sat down across from Eskel, and the two began studying their decks to plan their strategy. 

As Lambert starts sitting across from Geralt he gets the strange sensation that means that butterflies in the stomach have been suppressed. They had come on from a flash memory of all the desperate school-boy attempts he had preformed surrounding gwent to try to impress this man across from him. Lambert had studied the game since he was 15, because he had noticed that Geralt played with Eskel frequently over winters, and enjoyed the game a lot. He was hopeful that his textbook perfect knowledge and his own hand-made, non-official, and not very good looking Geralt card would impress the White Wolf. This had worked a little less than he had hoped it would at the time. Geralt hardly noticed him at all, which of course made his crush stronger. It had not even had the decency to have worn off with age, and in his adult life he has splurged on cards and even put himself on starvation rations in order to cultivate the most impressive deck that Geralt could have ever seen. As all this floods his mind, because Lambert had caught sight of the oddly colored card in Geralt's hand. The card that he had made all those years ago, before he had been allowed even to leave the keep. Lambert feels a flush of shame wash through him, and for once is glad of the mutagens for keeping him from blushing. Damn this feeling, and damn his hormones! All this was Vesemir’s fault really; what else could be expected of raising a boy alone in a castle with a bunch of warriors. Was he just not meant to develop a sexuality?

As Lambert began playing his first hand, he decided a little self-reflection was in order. He had known since he was young that Geralt was an omega, and so he had behaved as aggressivly (and as alpha- like) as he could. He also tried to fulfill any of Geralt’s wishes that he expressed aloud (which were few and far between) so that Geralt’s omega nature might express itself by seeing Lambert as a good mate someday. Alas, eventually Lambert began expressing as an omega, causing him to get a bit more bitter about his life, and for him to mimic classic asshole alpha traits even harder than before.

Okay, maybe this self-reflection thing was over-rated. Lambert decides to distract himself by continuing to try to be as much of an asshole alpha as he can muster- which, regrettably, is a lot. After tossing a few sardonic and rude comments into the other men’s converstaion, Lambert feels more comfortable again. He can handle this, and Aiden is a better catch than Geralt anyhow. 

“Yeesh- You’re pricklier than Yenn...” Geralt says after a rather good conversational shut-down that Lambert used on Eskel. Lambert felt proud at the comparison- the alpha sorceress is the one that Geralt loves and covets most of all people.

“Ugh. Don’t fall in love with me!” He responds aloud, a small and mutinous part of him banking on reverse psychology being in his favor.

Hours pass in this way, Lambert proving how great his deck is by winning game after game against Geralt. “What stakes should we bet now?” He crowed as he put down the card that would seal his victory. “Got anything left to put up, Pretty Boy?”

“Dammit!” Said Geralt without any heat, and pushed his last few coins at Lambert, “We could always play strip-gwent,” he joked.

Lambert made a strange strangled laughing sound, “Yeah, maybe then I’ll see what the ladies see in you!”

“Hey,” said Eskel “If you omegas are going to start getting undressed, I’m going to take myself elsewhere!”

“...and so am I” says Vesemir who was just walking into the hall- “got any room for me at that table?”

“Yeah,” Aiden said, not looking up from his hand “you can play winner.”

“Okay, let me just get out my cards.” His cloth bag clunked oddly, then something clinked together as he set it down on the rough wooden table to dig around for something. “Ah, I must have left my deck in my room- be straight back” 

“He left his bag...” Lambert points out in a soft whisper as soon as Vesemir was safely out of earshot- for he is always looking to avenge his sucky life on the older man. “Want to look inside, Eskel?”

“No, you.” Eskel said shyly, clearly uncomfortable.

“Aiden? How ‘bout you?”

“No, I’m trying to ingratiate myself to him at the moment- not get thrown into the merciless jaws of old man winter’s wrath!”

“Melitele, Aiden. He’s not that cold, and he’s not going to kick you out. Geralt? You and me?”

“Yeah, I’m curious...”

Inside was some clothing that smelled of an unknown alpha and a woman’s perfume, a leather-wrapped hunting knife, a small rolled up canvas, and two long, thick, clear glass dildos. A shocked look is shared between Geralt and Lambert, and Lambert tries his best not to laugh at the absurdity of the discovery and the wide and wild eyes of the usually stoic White Wolf. 

Working quickly, they shove the contents back inside and continue the game as though they did not all just see all that, or invade horribly on their kind of father’s personal affairs. When Vesemir returns, they are all behaving just a tad uncomfortably- but are making a show of not being.

“It’s too quiet.” Vesemir says eventually, with narrowed eyes. “You went through my bag, didn’t you.” The tired note in his voice indicates that he knew he should have taken it with him. “That-” he indicates the bag with his chin “is my portable nightstand- for when I’m on the Path and must spend my nights in inns.”

Geralt briefly looked around the table, swallowed, and asked “Why do you need both? Surely witchers only need to own two massive weapons if they are swords?” This caused a general laugh around the table, but Vesemir did not seem amused.

“They are useful during heats” Vesemir said while maintaining an intense glaring eye contact with Geralt, daring him to look away, “I happen to like filling myself up on both ends----”

“WHOOOAAAAAAHHH-- OH-KAYYY, TOO MUCH INFORMATION OLD MAN!” Lambert shouts, pushing back from the table causing his chair to loudly protest the treatment. Geralt looks grateful for having been saved from whatever the last half of that sentence was going to be.

“Geralt asked.” Vesemir says calmly, still watching Geralt, but a little less intensely and with a tiny evil glimmer in his eye. “They are replicas of my dear, late countess Mignole’s massive alpha cock.” Each syllable was said clearly and without any mercy.

“Hmm.” Geralt is looking even more uncomfortable now, wincing in disgust at the graphic description of countess Mignole. “I should have instead asked you how much they cost- you see, they do look useful for heat- if you have one of those, and they have one another...” Geralt started, with a vague wave at Lambert and Aiden.

“You can’t buy one from me. They aren’t for sale.” Vesemir intones, “Besides, did you not just lose all of your money to Lambert in Gwent?”

“Hmm...” Geralt said again, looking as pouty and disappointed as a hulking witcher like him can. It seems that he will be the only truly unsatisfied omega in Kaer Morhen this year. The only one desperate for contact, listening to Aiden being fully satisfied on Lambert’s dick, perhaps wishing that he could watch, maybe even wishing that he could have a turn… well, best to cut that train of thought off before it goes too far. 

“Right. Well. ‘Fascinating’ as this all was; I’m going to go get nesting materials, and prepare my room. C’mon Aiden.” Lambert said aloud, mentally shaking off the tendrils of arousal that had started trying to take root.

The games of Gwent forgotten, Aiden and Lambert go to scrounge up furs and cloth to use for their nest, while Eskel goes to plan his next few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment what you think so far! Next chapter up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is where I put what limited info I have about nesting and pre- heat into a story. E rating earned soon, promise!

There are many furs and blankets at Kaer Morhen, in part because of the number of years that it has stood, and in part due to Eskel’s endless hunt for new pelts during the other boy’s heats to keep himself busy and away from Kaer Morhen’s inner keep. Poor Eskel must suffer as much as they do, really, from the wintry cold with only the goats, horses and whatever pelts he managed to get so far this season to keep him warm. The omegas are really quite selfish about their nests, and won’t spare much for his first few nights in the stables.

But Eskel never complains- he is probably the sweetest alpha that Lambert’s ever met. Alphas are usually so territorial and don’t like being told what to do by omegas- but Eskel is accommodating and seems to want to ease their suffering. For the last couple of decades he has been cooking for them as well- keeping the omega scent out of his nose by filling it instead with the scent of meat pies and stews and the occasional batch of tarts made with mountain blueberries. Those blueberries are ones that Eskel picks himself fresh the morning he makes the tarts. The smells waft up to them in their rooms and they take turns going to fetch some after Eskel announces he is leaving for the day. Vesemir goes first, as he is the farthest away and in the highest room in the tower- then as he returns he passes Geralt’s door, which he knocks on. Then as Geralt returns, he knocks as he passes Lambert’s room. It is a good system, no one runs into one another and no one goes without Eskel’s cooking. Eskel has had some good out of the system as well- he has gained some skill as a chef and has made close friends with a small goat he calls lil’ Bleater. He truly is a gem of an Alpha- a real catch for anyone who does not care about his fertility issue or cat-eyes. 

Lambert takes the time to give Aiden a quick tour of Kaer Morhen- showing him the views from the tower windows, and where some repairs need to be made once their heats are through. Then they made their way to the pelt and blanket room, to find that Vesemir and Geralt were already raiding it. “Hey, leave some of that for us!” Lambert says, snatching a bear pelt that he remembers as his kill away from Vesemir’s large pile.

Vesemir let out an involuntary low growl “we will each have plenty- and you will do well to leave at least two nice ones for your brother Eskel. He deserves at least that amount of comfort out in the stables.” It does take several days to properly prepare, stretch, and dry a fresh pelt. Lambert feels a little bad about taking all of them in years past. Just a little, mind. Eskel had survived just fine.

Aiden and Lambert loaded their arms up with soft and warm bundles until the height was almost such that they couldn’t see- then waddled to their room with them. Lambert got his large mattress off the frame and laid it out over his rug. Working together, they began building the walls of their shared nest. It soothed Lambert greatly, and while he had thought that having someone else building the nest with him would make him antsy it was actually having the opposite effect, and his tightened muscles began relaxing. He could also ignore the muffled shuffling of Vesemir and Geralt building their nests this year. It usually filled him with anxiety at the thought that they are taking from his limited supply of nesting materials- irrational as that thought may be.

Once they had taken about ten trips in this way, they had quite the hefty nest. It smelled like the pelt storage room- so a blend of dried herbs which Vesemir keeps in there to scent the blankets nicely. They had been pressing their wrists to each pelt, and Aiden would rub his jawline against them like a real cat so their nest also smells pleasantly of their togetherness. It made something that was small and sad inside of Lambert’s chest unfurl a bit and feel comforted.

Lambert took a second so that he could settle into it and be consumed with how cozy and ample his nest this year was. He watched as Aiden followed his lead and closed his eyes in obvious contentment. This was the life! Properly sated, Lambert goes back to the supping hall with Aiden to play a lazy no-stakes round of Gwent and lightly snack while asking Eskel about his schedule. 

“As soon as you guys start smelling good enough to eat, I’m heading out to the peaks to get a few hides and start that process early, already got the stretching racks set up and my knives sharp. If I play this right, lil’ Bleater will only need to keep me warm for a night or two.” As though that tiny goat could keep Eskel warm if she tried.

Lambert absentmindedly fingered his biting cold card- thinking of taking out Aiden’s infantrymen with it as Eskel spoke. “Gonna save and make friends with another wild goat to keep her company?”

“No- not this time. She is enough of a handful as it is.” Laughed Eskel in surprise.

“Tell us her story again Eskel,” a sure signal to himself that his heat was near. Eskel’s underlying scent and rumbling sweet voice was getting to him, making him want to hear Eskel talking. “I don’t think that Aiden’s heard it before.”

“Well, there is not much to tell, Aiden. A few years back I had to fight a griffon that had settled too close to Kaer Morhen, and when I started to fight this wild goatling ran out and started to ‘help’ bleating and running at that griffon- trying her best to head butt it, bless her. She couldn't have been four months old! Then, when I was harvesting a few ingredients from the griffon she stayed by me. Just watching. When I looked into her little eyes- she seemed to know that I had saved her life and she bleated at me. I had some oats for Scorpion in my pockets and she ate them down and followed me home. She has gotten bigger since then- but she is still my lil’ Bleater.”

Aiden smiled “Leave it to you, Eskel, to befriend a wild animal and let yourself sleep next to her.”

“Hey, lil’ Bleater only sometimes tries to eat my hair or clothes. She would never hurt me.” Eskel chuckles.

That night, after falling to sleep with Aiden, Lambert felt it. The first of his heat, at around 3 am. It made him feel too warm and kind of prickly under his skin. Slowly opening his eyes, he focused his sight onto Aiden… and immediately regretted it because the soft ethereal yearning he had suddenly turned into wanting Aiden inside him. Not necessarily sexually- just in his body. Like if they were to push their chests together with enough force then the solidity of them would merge and slide into the same space. Like they could cease being Aiden and Lambert and just be Together. Lambert ached with this impossible and slippery feeling as he watched his boyfriend breathe peacefully. He is unsure when or even how he had fallen back asleep- but when he woke again Aiden had left his side of the nest and was poking about the shelf of books in here that held some old texts and his diaries from youth before he had left the keep. 

“’Morning,” He said cheerfully “Just seeing how different you wolves do things! Ready for breakfast?”

Lambert raised himself off the cozy nesting material and let his hand be taken that he might more easily get out over the high wall. “Mnph” he said by way of thanks, and they got dressed enough to be considered decent and went to the kitchen, flagstones cold and gritty under their bare feet. 

“Woah, smells like I've spent my last night inside!” Lambert heard Eskel saying from the sup hall as he and Aiden got their scrambled egg and fried elk meat from the pans that Eskel bought for the keep some winters back.

“Yeah, no shit.” intoned a grouchy sounding Geralt. “I only came down so I could eat. I’ll go back to my nest soon enough, Eskel. Don’t worry.”

Upon walking nearer, he realized what Eskel meant. Geralt smelled so sweet and spicy- like tropical fruits from the far and exotic south. Pineapple and peaches baked in a vanilla and cinnamon syrup with an underlying musky scent. Lambert’s mouth watered, so it must be even worse for Eskel. Lambert granted himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe in that scent while he pictured throwing Geralt onto his back on the table and eating him out right there. Just suckling his dick while sliding two fingers inside to pull out some of that incredible slick just to lick it off his fingers in view of everyone before burying his face in his ass to spear him with his tongue. Melitele, he just wanted to gorge on it. Would Geralt like that? Would he keen and moan? Would he open his meaty thighs up and beg to be fucked right there? Before he could stop it, his dick filled out and his own slicks’ scent bloomed in the air, a thick glob of it leaving his puckered entrance and wetting his underthings.

“Damn, Lambert- not you too!” said a somewhat panicked sounding Eskel “Let me finish eating first!”

His scent was of pine needles and cloves and honey, and it was soft and musky, and blended beautifully with Geralt’s. He walked carefully to the table, then sat on his cooling but still- soaked pants. “Sorry, Eskel. Just that time of year I guess” He hoped that the inhale hadn’t been overly obvious, that Geralt hadn’t picked up on his arousal having been caused by him. But Geralt didn’t seem at all bothered by it- he seemed to be focused more on gritting his teeth against his own intense arousal while he cut into his meat. 

This close, one could hear the slightly ragged breaths growl- whining through Geralt’s throat. Goddess he was a beautiful sight with his pupils blown wide like that, stoically trying to control himself- glorious Lambert thought. He looked to Aiden, hoping that Aiden had seen why he had fallen for this one, and he wasn’t disappointed. Aiden’s breathing was a touch ragged, his dark eyes focused intensely on his egg, as though it was betraying him. 

Under Lambert's stare and before this sensory onslaught, he seemed a little uncomfortable. “Fuuuuckk,” Aiden let vent to his feelings with so much whispery heat that Lambert’s abdomen clenched as a slight shiver went through him, another sizable amount of slick started to soak the seat of his pants and creep down his thighs. “Holy shit, you two smell like heaven.” Then they caught Aiden’s scent joining theirs- like gingerbread and cherries.

Eskel stood roughly, the table squawking slightly at the quick adjustment, then stiffly excused himself to the stables, Geralt watching him go with lidded eyes and bated breath. 

“C’mon, Aiden, lets take our food back to the nest.”

“Lets let Geralt go first, I need a minute here.” Aiden said, “You wolves sure don’t know how to handle these things huh?” he teased, as Geralt made a gallant effort to walk normally to the stairs and ascend.


	4. Chapter 4

With heat having set in properly now, even making it back to the nest was difficult. Geralt had four flights of stairs to climb from where they were, while they had only three. ‘Damn Geralt. Why did he feel the need to come to the dining area smelling like that?’ he thought bitterly as he climbed the second set of stairs. By now his slick had coated the insides of his thighs and past his knees. He was so damn horny at this point that he could feel his hole pulsing in time with his heart. Poor Aiden didn’t look to be in much better condition. His usually graceful and well-spoken cat was reduced to stumbling on clumsy legs and swearing at each one.

“Sorry for my brother’s behavior- I wish I could tell you that he is usually better behaved than that”

“He’s fine. I see what you saw in him, Lambert, your adolescent longing was quite justified” Aiden mumbled quietly enough that only Lambert should have heard it. It still freaked Lambert out though.

“Shh-tzz! Don’t!” Lambert panic whispered. He then paused in his ascent and listened for Geralt, focusing his senses in the direction of his room. Geralt was grunting out a slowish beat, obviously touching himself off. His rhythm didn’t seem to have been affected- so he must not have heard Aiden’s words.

Once they got going again Aiden couldn’t hold it in. “He’s about two floors up, Lambert. There was no way he could have heard me! You are so paranoid about this little crush!” Aiden quietly said with a grin, clearly loving how deeply Lambert was in this for. “But I am sorry for stressing you out about it, lets get into that nest so I can make it up to you. How do you want it first?”

“I want you to fuck me- missionary.” Lambert immediately responded. “As deep, slow and sweet as you can. Look into my eyes and say whatever is on your mind; that was the best fantasy- the one that really powered me through when I was alone last winter.”

“As you wish, so it shall be,” said Aiden, his accent coming on a little thicker in his excitement. Omegas typically like to be penetrated, rather than using their dicks (if they even had one) but Aiden seemed happy enough to do it that way for their first coupling.

Once they made it to the heavy door and pushed it in, they immediately striped their robes and underthings off, and got into the nest. Lambert excitedly positions himself as Aiden strokes his rock hard cock with some of the slick that was coating his thighs. “Fuck, Lambert, you look so eager and pretty. Such a perfect, pretty little omega pup, all desperate for my cock.” He gets to his hands and knees then, and climbs over Lambert. Using two fingers, he slowly slides inside Lambert’s already relaxed hole, crooking his fingers and sliding in and out, slowly stretching him further. Lambert goes dizzy with want and his head falls back onto the sloping wall of furs behind him, breathing deeply of their mingled scent and the clean herbiness of the pelts. After a while of this, Aiden neatly slips in a third finger and changes angle on a press forward, directly hitting Lambert’s prostate, and causing Lambert to breathe in one loud gasp, and look at Aiden. “Fuck!” He says, so that Aiden knows how he felt about the sudden shift. But he took the sight before him in readily- Aiden had a nice cock; omegas were much shorter than alphas on average, but Aiden’s was thick and he really knew how to use it. Some of the wetness of Aiden’s arousal had slid all the way down to his tip, where it was mixing with a bit of precum. Lambert watched a bit of that mixture dribble onto his hip, and suddenly felt so empty. “Please, Aiden, fucking please, I really need it” Lambert breathed out shakily, begging like he never had before.

Aiden almost had to put his forehead down against his side “Fuck, Lambert- be patient Melitele help me” said Aiden- sounding just like he had been punched in the gut by Lambert’s voice. But he did as he had been told, and lined up with Lambert to push inside. Lambert moaned loudly and Aiden groaned slightly. After a beat or two of their hearts, he started moving, grinding his hips at a slow and steady pace to start, looking at Lambert lovingly “Goddess, you are so hot inside; I could come from how hot and wet and loose you are right now; you have got me so fucking worked up right now, Lambert.”

Lambert moaned loudly at the praise, not caring that he could be heard, just focusing on the feeling. He had never experienced sex while in heat before. Not ever. Now that felt like a real shame, and wasting his heats was a mistake he wouldn’t readily make again. Aiden sped the pistoning of his hips- his eyes focused on Lambert’s face like a starving man on food- and then kissed him. They had never kissed like this; grinding their lips together and rubbing their tongues in simulation of their fucking. Melitele it was a revelation. It was beautiful, and filthy, and emotional; just downright blissful. Aiden switched angle just slightly, then sped up even further- stealing both their breaths from them. Lambert realized in that moment that he was never going to be the same man again, that this was a spiritual experience he couldn’t come back from. What Aiden was doing to him right now was sweet and powerfully sexy in a way that was healing something broken in Lambert, something that Lambert had given up on getting fixed. He didn’t even bother hiding the tear that slipped down his cheek. After a few mere minutes of this Lambert came, with shining tears still streaking his scarred face. Aiden slowed his pace to a pounding, rhythm, keeping pulse with the slow beats of their hearts, and holding Lambert tightly to him as he chased his own orgasm. “Please...”an over-sensitized Lambert had whispered into Aiden’s hair, but please what? Please stop? He didn’t want that, so he held his tongue until Aiden finally spilled deep within him.

It wasn’t until they were cuddling in the aftermath and their breathing had calmed to a normal pace that Lambert thought about how loud they had both just been. He immediately focused on listening to Geralt. The poor man was breathing heavily and whining in a way Lambert hadn’t ever heard before. 

“Fuuuuck…” Geralt said emphatically to the empty room, “Please?” the pathetic question split the air and sounded very unlike the stoic and stable White Wolf that Lambert knew. Then came another first. Geralt usually keeps from fingering himself until day three or four- trying desperately to preserve modesty and ‘build tolerance against his heats’; and even when he did finger himself it was a quiet, shame-soaked affair full of quietening tactics and designed to make himself come quickly. But the distinct sounds of wetly squelching fingers followed by a full-on moan soon echoed through Kaer Morhen. He listened for a full fifteen minutes as Geralt loudly and luxuriously took himself apart from the inside, then continued listening as afterwards Geralt near- silently sobbed to himself, clearly miserable.

“Fuck, we broke Geralt.” Lambert whispered to Aiden, who had an evil glint in his eye.

Lambert couldn’t help but be insanely turned on by Geralt finally fucking himself like he deserved- sloppy and fully and in earnest without shame and restraint. But he hated the crying afterwards- feeling his nurturing fatherly side kick in, and make him desperate to hug him close and tell him he is okay.

Lambert hadn’t noticed Aiden creeping down to start eating him out. “Hey!” he said loudly as Aiden started lapping at him - “none of that! We should be good for at least three hours. I don’t want to be any louder or more obnoxious than we have to be.”

“Good!” Vesemir yelled from two floors up. 

He must have been focusing on what was happening their floor, likely because it wasn’t Geralt and because nothing was happening other that breathing and cuddling at the moment. “Quit listening, Old Man, we promise to be good.”

“For a while!” Aiden added happily.

Hours later, once Lambert started feeling unbearably horny again, he gently shook Aiden out of his reverie/meditation that he was in then slowly parted his legs. Aiden grinned “Oh, no, now it’s my turn! I pick the position this time!” A soft hum that ended a bit breathy reached his ear, and he assumed that either Vesemir or Geralt was listening.

“Okay, but be good to me!” Lambert said with a grin.

Aiden lifted Lambert’s hips and turned his body so that Lambert was presenting in quite the shameless and provocative manner. “There! That’s just how I like you. A pretty, submissive, presenting omega.”

Lambert growled as loudly as he could and tried to move his hips “Fuck you, Aiden!” he managed, but he had put no heat into it, and his pupils had blown wide. Gently, Aiden kissed his fluttering hole, lingering for a mere moment before pulling back and laughing a rich, low laugh. 

At that Lambert gave him a light kick to prove a point, then curved his back, spread his thighs and presented as fully as possible.

“Mmm...” Aiden said as he leaned forward, using his hands to spread Lambert a bit. Soft kitten licks randomly pulled the skin away from center around him, followed by a firm kiss directly against his sensitized hole. Then suddenly Aiden violently speared him open with his tongue, as lips massaged his rim, and Aiden hummed, a deep grumbling tune. Lambert loudly shouts out and hides his face in the slopes of their nest and moans and shouts and occasionally screams from the pleasure and with the happiness of it. After getting Lambert off with nothing but his tongue and the little friction he supplied in the form of three firm rubs to his little cock, Aiden stood on legs still wobbling with arousal and jerked off onto Lambert’s vanquished form. 

It wasn’t even fully fourty minutes after that it was their time to get their food. Geralt informed them on his way up by tapping at their door. They went into the deserted kitchen where Eskel had slaved over some heavily scented stew. It was full of protein and tasted like a meat- eaters heaven. The stew beef was tender, and the dipping bread was crusty. After eating, they go up and lie tangled together, just chatting and tracing each others bodies.

That evening, when they started to get worked up again, Lambert knew what he was going to ask for. His plan was to fuck Aiden so well that Aiden would cry, thus making Geralt insanely jealous and maybe even cause him to think that Lambert truly is as good as an alpha. In hushed tones, he gets his idea across to Aiden so that even if Geralt was trying to listen in he shouldn’t be able to heat them. Aiden loves the idea- his eyes twinkle with it and he impishly grins. Poor Geralt never stood a chance.

“Oh, Lambert. I know you aren’t really an Alpha- but you can growl like one. Please come over here and fuck me so good”

Lambert doesn’t so much fuck Aiden as they fuck each other. Its filthy dirty, gritty and hard. Aiden moans like a high-end whore and Lambert does make him eventually sob with pleasure, his smaller frame being wracked with the shivers of pleasure and marrow- deep sobs in turns. Lambert begins halfway listening to Geralt's room as he starts pulling tricks that a particularly kind alpha whore once taught him. 

Geralt is openly weeping, and begging the gods he doesn’t believe in for mercy. “Melitele- please- put me in her mind- make Yennefer wish to see me now… or Jaskier… even send Eskel up for something… just please… don’t leave me like this. Don’t let me suffer so- I am so… weak...” he whispers heatedly between sobs. Lambert then hears him brutally shoving fingers into himself- desperate for stimulation, and slapping at his own skin brutally in frustration or fury Lambert could not tell.

Aiden is clearly listening to Geralt as well, because when he took up his prayer again Aiden drops his voice into a filthy moan and says Lambert’s name during an opportune moment, as though suggesting who Geralt should pray for. 

Lambert takes no mercy on Geralt however, and rails Aiden until he has come twice and is incoherently trying to get away. The over-stimulation, the heat scents, the fucking hedonistic delight of it all- it overwhelms him with the need to sleep. He cuddles into Aiden and they drop into a deep and comfortable slumber within minutes.

Geralt, however, does not rest easily that night.


	5. Chapter 5

When Aiden wakes Lambert the next morning, Eskel is in the kitchen and the scent of baking blueberries and cooking bacon is permeating the air. Vesemir sounds like he is pacing his nest, and Geralt is talking to himself in a low enough register that Lambert cannot make out words. Lambert briefly feels bad about how he had tormented the man last night, but those thoughts are soon chased away by lazy kisses from Aiden. They gently begin exploring the planes of one anothers’ bodies as Lambert mentally prepares himself for another day of a surfeit of desire followed by an onslaught of pleasure. When the two of them share a delighted giggle together it seems to set something off in Geralt and he gets out of his nest, his bare feet slapping against the stones loudly. He shuffles around with something for a while, then he is opening his door and descending the stairs.

Eskel is still in the kitchen, Geralt can’t go down there now! Lambert silently disentangles himself from Aiden and glides his way as quietly as possible to the keyhole to watch as Geralt passes his door. Geralt is in nothing but a towel. It isn’t very well tied at that, and is only held up by the grace of the goddess. 

He was wet; by all the gods was he wet, leaving partial footprints on each step, and he smelled sinfully good- like a choice desert. Lambert focused his senses onto the kitchen area- Eskel was humming to himself and seemed to have no idea that Geralt was on his way. 

About five minutes later, they hear Geralt make it to the kitchen. Eskel gasps and it sounds like he’s trying to get away to the stables as quickly as he can- calling out “Geralt! What are you doing! I am not done with the tarts yet!” 

“Hear me out.” Geralt rumbles each word out carefully, “I don’t need anyone. Ever. But I need your help today. I cannot live through this heat while retaining my sanity.” A pause, then “Don’t make me say it again.”

Eskel sighs heavily- breathing in through his nose- clearly fighting some internal battle. “I suppose Vesemir hasn’t become angry with Aiden and Lambert as yet- so I shall help you.” A few odd noises later, and Eskel starts heading for the stairs- presumably with Geralt in his arms.

Aiden scrambles to put on his towel and get out of the nest. “How is my hair?” He asks, pushing it from its mussed and wild state into the styled- to- the- side look that he uses to bargain with alderman.

“It looks fine? Are you expecting someone to see you?” Lambert starts running his fingers through his own hair to tamp it down and smooth it back. “What are we about to do, Aiden?”

“Going to fulfill your dreams, my love. Get out of that nest.” Lambert is gently helped out of the nest and their door is swung open. Aiden helps him get into a towel and then artfully arranges it so that it is a whisper of a breeze away from falling off. Aiden’s own towel is at a low and roguish angle, seeming to be asking Lambert to take it off and toss it away.

When Eskel rounds the corner and is faced with their room, Aiden is leaning against the door frame, smirking lightly and examining his nails.

“You two are welcome to come in here- save you a flight of stairs, and you would have a larger nest as well.” He winked saucily at Geralt, who seemed lightly glazed over and out of it. He sort of already looks as though he had been fucked to within an inch of his life. Geralt shifted in Eskel’s big arms to look inside better and grunted while feebly attempting to move forward. Eskel took that to be a yes from him, and went inside, setting Geralt down in the nest with the utmost care. The expression on Eskel’s face said ‘what did I get myself into’, but the tent in his cloth trousers said other things entirely.

Aiden swings the door shut, and Lambert's vision goes a bit soft and hazy around the edges, this is really happening. He looks Geralt in the eye; Geralt paws his towel out of the way, revealing his fully erect cock, and perfect tight little balls- he is so wound up already, and its so beautiful on him. Lambert shifts his vision slightly and sees Aiden gently taking off Eskel’s clothing, and Eskel clearly looking more comfortable with the idea of this orgy.

Once all of Eskel's things had been removed, Aiden took a half step back to look at him and gasped after taking in the sheer size of him, immediately falling to his knees in order to mouth little reverent kisses to it.

“Damn, Eskel” Lambert hears himself breathe out, “you better get the fuck over here.” Geralt spreads his thick thighs and lays back more fully against the nest as Eskel steps in. Eskel takes a long look- drinking the sight in then falls to his knees, setting his large hands against the backs of Geralt's thighs. He lowers his mouth to Geralt's exposed balls and slipped them gently inside. Soft slurping sounds could be heard as Eskel carefully massaged and lathed Geralt's balls- his own ass high in the air.

Eskel moved his hands around to Geralt’s lower back and easily lifted him up- dragging his wriggling tongue across Geralt’s perineum then began moving lower and sloppily eating him out.

Aiden wiggled his eyebrows lustily at Lambert, as if to accentuate how good an idea he’d had. Lambert smiles slightly, but doesn’t take his eyes off of Geralt’s face as he is coming apart. A vision better than even his best fantasy had guessed at. His dick throbbed.

“Please,” Geralt says, his eyes casting about as Eskel picks up his tongue- fucking. Geralt's eyes lock on Lambert's face, and his pupils adjust, making him look like a cat that had spied something it wished to pounce on. “Uuuhhhh… fuck me….” he tells Lambert. Lambert's knees buckle, and he has never thrown off a towel so hard and fast in his life. Eskel raises his head, saliva and slick dripping off his chin like he had just been eating from a watermelon. Geralt continues looking at Lambert, “fuck me” he says with a bit more clarity and authority. 

Eskel follows Geralt's line of sight to Lambert, then seeing that he wants it as well, picks him up and drags him roughly to their part of the nest. He drags the flat of his hand along Lambert’s backside to scoop up a generous palmful of lube, then gently stroked Lambert’s sensitive dick with it, coating it thoroughly. Lambert positioned himself over Geralt then, his pecs on Geralt's thighs, Geralt’s knees on his shoulders. Geralt closed his eyes- his white hair making a halo about his chiseled yet slack features “Lambert-” He started, the tone begging.

Lambert didn’t need another invitation and slid inside. It was the pinnacle of years of longing, and was a near out-of-body experience. Nothing could compare. Geralt’s breath hitched beautifully and Lambert drew back to begin pounding home- letting vent every night of sexual frustration he’d experienced because of this man. He reached down and grabbed those ample perfect globes with his hands, and spread them further- never letting up his pace. Geralt moaned loudly, looking blissed out, eyes beginning to roll back a bit.

It was then Lambert realized that he was going to come. Horrified he looked away, desperate to think of something else- but it was too late. He thrusts deeply into Geralt and held it, coming deeply within him- before he had even begun exploring what Geralt might like. Before he had found that little spot to drive him wild, before making him cry with it, clutching at the sheets and Lambert's chest with wild abandon. 

He is so ashamed, and mourns that he may never be allowed this again that as he hides his face in Geralt's shoulder and heaves a deep sigh crossed with a sob, he almost doesn’t notice that he hasn’t gone soft. That happens to him sometimes when he is really turned on- Melitele bless witcher stamina. He is aware of Eskel and Aiden’s eyes on him, and is about to start moving again when Aiden begins fingering him. He decides to lay still on Geralt and let this new thing happen. Eventually, Aiden is sliding four fingers in and out of him easily, then pulls out and stays away. Just when Lambert was considering asking to be filled again, Eskel slides himself inside. It goes so deep- much deeper than he’s ever had before, and he grips Geralt tightly to himself as his dick twitches and his insides adjust. Geralt gasps too- “Please move, please fuck me?” he softly asks in his gorgeous gravelly register. Lambert can deny him nothing when he sounds like that and he lifts his weight back onto his arms and slides some of the way out of Geralt, and fully back onto Eskel. Eskel reaches around and envelops Lambert in a sweet hug while rolling his hips and causing Lambert to roll forward into Geralt some. Lambert eventually finds a rhythm with Geralt and Eskel that has them all panting with pleasure. Geralt is looking at his face as though enraptured, it is such a dream come true and makes him feel beautiful.

“He likes it when you do this” Eskel says, taking Lambert's hips into his large hands and pressing him forward as he shifts his angle. Geralt moans wantonly and hides his face with the crook of his elbow. Eskel continues using Lambert as a type of sex toy for a while, not seeming to care what it was doing to him. Geralt was baring his neck and groaning sharply with each inward thrust as Lambert’s cock was hitting his prostate directly. Lambert thinks that this is probably the most erotic thing to have ever happened to him.

“Okay, he needs it deeper now. Here. Budge up.” Eskel removes Lambert from Geralt with a wet sound then lightly encourages him forward. Lambert shuffles forward, removing Eskel from himself inch by glorious inch, then rolls to the side to watch as Eskel fills Geralt’s newly empty hole- fully sheathing himself in one brutal stroke. Both men moan in unison, and Geralt’s arms fly out to the sides as he grips the nest with intensity and squinches his eyes tightly shut.

Aiden takes the opportunity to grab Lambert and slides himself into his waiting and ready hole. Eskel absolutely pounds into Geralt, who has taken to thrashing about and is speaking in tongues. Aiden keeps his pace exactly on Eskel's rhythm, so that Lambert’s prostate is rubbed on an in stroke just when Geralt is making a rough little gasping sound at the end of each moan for being so filled. It is making Lambert feel like they are sharing the sensation of being fucked- and Lambert is in heaven. Its incredible and doesn’t last nearly long enough, because Geralt comes hard with a rough and growly grunt that lasts and lasts. Eskel rides him through it, but does not come himself.

Aiden immediately calls out for Eskel, then presents himself without shame. Eskel chuckles, but does bring his magnificent dick over to Aiden to satisfy him. Lambert goes to Geralt. He looks flushed, and is hot to the touch- feverish looking really. But he is also sated and loose and relaxed looking at the same time. Lambert can’t help himself, he kisses him. To his mild surprise, Geralt kisses him back. Its sloppy and loose, but kissing him while he is in this state is a heady, incredible experience. It seems to Lambert that this moment holds a world of promise. Geralt smooths his thumb over Lambert’s cheek- passing over the scar like it wasn’t even there- “Fuck,” he grumbles, “you’re beautiful.”

The filthy slapping and moaning sounds of Eskel and Aiden seemed to grow loud and intrusive to Lambert then- and he could feel himself blushing. 

“I mean, sometimes… you’re a real jackass… but… I love you.” 

Lambert felt winded, as though he had been pushed off a small cliff onto his back, but he quickly recovered. “And sometimes you’re a real blowhard. But dammit… I’d go to hell and back for you. Come here, you oaf!” Lambert pillowed his face onto Geralt’s ample chest, Geralt returning the hug with bruising force. Lambert isn’t sure how long he had his face buried between Geralt's ample bosoms, but eventually there was a knock at the door. 

“Can you get that? We’re a little tied up at the moment.” Aiden said cheekily, looking like he’d just eaten the canary, while Eskel looked a cross between intensely pleasured and concentrated. It was clear that Eskel had recently come, and the two of them were going to be that way for a little while. Lambert reluctantly disentangled himself from the now sleeping Geralt- looking him over as he lay peacefully breathing before going to the door.

Vesemir was there. In full armor. Looking like he had been through hell itself. He had clearly taken a few potions- likely to try to cause his body to want to sleep the toxicity off. “Here,” Vesemir said, holding out a glass dildo “for Geralt. I have selected a room for Aiden. He can take his nesting materials from here. Eskel, you need to go finish breakfast then tend to the stables. Geralt. Wake up, you are going back to your room.” When no one snapped to, Vesemir shouted “Let's go!”

Well, it was good while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment what you thought! And if I should write an epilogue or smthg...


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